The nows you missed with her are real,

But yesterday and tomorrow are not.

What’s done is done, at least,

In this world. What do you want

To take with you to the other side?

Or, be there waiting for you, beyond time?

Tick, tick, tick, then it stops,

What do we find beyond the ticking?

Everything is a choice, even sitting here

Now, click, click, clicking this poem.

Are all poems messages to the great unknown?

Future me, which does not exist,

Might read one, many years from now,

And wonder if she adequately loved

What was sent to her as a gift to be loved.

The real moments: tick tick and click clicking,

That come, come, come to us–

Then disappear,

Like she has.